Shreds
by Mind of the Childishly Naive
Summary: Recovering from that kickball game wasn't as easy as Huey would have liked... / post-3:33 "The Red Ball". collection, because who doesn't love tiny scroll bars? ;I


-x-

Shreds

-x-

Huey had never seen a doctor look more confused than the one standing before him did.

Assuming the expression was due to a lack of experience or knowledge on the doctor's part, Huey frowned darkly at the manila folder in the man's hands, knowing it contained his x-rays and that they weren't good. This was one of the reasons why he hated hospitals. Grandad hovered by his side, arms crossed, and Riley was reclined in a chair behind them, PSP in hand and otherwise uninterested in the results.

"Well," the doctor said at length, still puzzling over the x-rays, "They're _both _broken."

Grandad didn't hide his surprise very well.

"Both of 'em?"

"Yes sir. Clean in two." The doctor slammed the x-rays up onto the back-lit board on the wall for everyone to see. "The radius and ulna bones that make up your forearms are both broken near the wrist. We'll need to realign them before we can even get him in a cast."

Riley laughed, arching an eyebrow at Huey, "'At Chinese girl really fucked you up good, Nigga." Never mind that Huey had walked away with far less bruises and welts than the rest of the team, Riley included. Grandad cuffed his youngest grandson in the head for using the "F" word, then glanced at Huey, who sat calmly on the examination table with his forearms resting on his legs.

They shook slightly.

Aside from the audible snap as Huey deflected that final kick, it should have been obvious. His arms had both been swollen in the same spot since the kickball game, but Robert hadn't thought anything of it until Huey had vocalized his discomfort and suggested he be taken to the hospital - both of which were something he never did.

"I guess we shoulda splinted 'em or somethin', then, huh?" Grandad asked, guiltily placing a hand on the back of his head.

"It _would _have been a good idea to stabilize them," the doctor agreed, setting the empty folder aside, "Especially if you suspected they were broken to begin with. Overall, though, it shouldn't cause any complications. They'll still heal just fine in a month or two as long as you take care of the casts. Now, putting them back into place is going to hurt, Huey, so I'll give you a shot for the pain, all right?"

Contemptuous of the healthcare system in general, Huey declined the offer. The only reason he had even come to the hospital was because he knew this was not something that could be treated at home.

"I'd rather just bear through it," he said.

That same look of confusion crossed the doctor's face. He had already procured the necessary loaded needle out of a nearby drawer and knotted his brow at Huey as he emphasized, "It's _really_ going to hurt."

"And it _really_ hurts now," Huey said, mahogany eyes narrowing, "Just because my arms are broken doesn't mean I won't come over there and smack the hell out of you for being stupid. Are you positive you graduated from _medical school_ and not a cheap community college? How did you even get a license to practice medicine if your best argument is a baffled expression and 'It's _really_ going it hurt.'?"

"Damn it, boy, be nice," Grandad snapped, cutting through the methodical rant, "Take the painkiller."

"I don't want it, Grandad."

"Well, your gettin' it. Ain't no sense in bein' s'damn stubborn about it, Huey."

"No. I just want the casts on, and I want to go home. I don't - ouch!"

Opportunistically, the doctor stuck Huey in the arm while his attention was focused elsewhere.

"Most kids just don't like needles," he said to Grandad, as though he thought this was the case. He smiled at Huey, withdrawing the needle once it was empty. "See, that wasn't so bad."

"And it'll temper ya mood, too," Grandad added, though he warily stepped back incase Huey decided to throttle the doctor.

Luckily, for the doctor, Huey's arms _did_ hurt. He was still exhausted from the kickball game and the amount of energy required to get up and hit the man would have been a waste.

"My mood doesn't need tempering," Huey said, opting for his most intimidating stare.

It worked quickly enough; the doctor's smile vanished. Nervously, he discarded the needle and said, "Well, at least it won't hurt when we set your arms. Let's, uh... let's go ahead and do that, shall we?"

The doctor was right about one thing: it didn't hurt. Unaccustomed to taking drugs of any kind, Huey actually dozed off before they even started wrapping his first arm in the cotton that would line his cast. Laughing and mean-spirited as always, Riley offered to lead Huey, who was asleep on his feet, to the car and ended up taking him twice around the parking lot before Grandad shouted at him, "Get inna Goddamn car, and stop messin' with ya brother!"

Huey slept with his face against the window the entire car-ride home, where Riley unceremoniously guided him into the hedges by the front door, and he slept through the rest of the night after Grandad fished him out of the bushes and carried him to bed.

-x-

For the first few days, his arms were swollen, hot, and itchy because of the short-arm casts that covered both arms from his knuckles to his elbows. The limited range of movement became his first frustration, and the pain his second. He tried to avoid taking the medication on principle alone; it _did_ negate the pain, as it was supposed to, but it also made him drowsy and fuzzy in the head (that was the only way to describe it).

He didn't like the feeling, so he didn't take the medicine. When Grandad periodically asked if he had, Huey lied - and it worked until an unusually observant Riley broke character and ratted him out.

"I counted yo pills, Nigga," Riley said, holding out the full bottle, "You ain't taken _none_ of 'em!"

He shook it accusingly. The small, plastic-coated pills clattered rapidly against the inside of the bottle and Huey grimaced. He was doubled over, his forehead on the kitchen table and his arms in his lap, with the biggest icepack he could find between them.

"Not now, Riley."

"Yeah, _now,_ Nigga, take ya damn meds," Riley snapped, fumbling for a moment to unscrew the child-proof lid. He shook two pills out into his open palm, then regarded the label on the bottle. "It says one e'ery three hours 'as needed', but since you been skippin', you can take two now an' another in a hour if you still hurtin'. Here!"

He thrust them out toward Huey, who made no move at all to take them or any indication that he was listening aside from a slant of his mahogany eyes. Riley frowned at him, his hand steady and his jaw set.

"If I gotta _make _you take 'em, I will," he finally said, and had every intention of following through with the threat.

Huey closed his eyes and didn't respond, doing his best to ignore the itching and resist the unbearably stupid urge to shove a pencil or some other thin, scratching object down his casts. The _clap_ of the pill bottle smacking the tabletop was the only warning Huey got. He lifted his head, frowning in irritation, and was suddenly hauled to his feet by the fist at his collar.

The icepack slid off his lap, crunching against the floor.

On the way up, he banged an arm against the underside of the table and shouted. Huey used the other arm to shove Riley away and grit his teeth against the sharp pang that ran through the length of his cast - while it was significantly less painful than the throb beginning in his other arm, it was still enough to knock the breath out of him.

"Goddamn it, Riley," Huey gasped, pulling both his arms in against his stomach and leaning forward.

Riley held out his hand toward Huey again, the pills clenched in his fist.

"I _tol'_ you I wudn't playin', Huey," he said, the slight knot to his brow the only sign of remorse on his face, "It wouldn' a hurt so bad if you'd take yo damn painkillers like you's s'pposed to."

"It wouldn't have hurt at all if you hadn't jerked me up like that," Huey said, glaring up at him.

Riley quirked an eyebrow,

"Pause."

Huey scowled at him, frown deepening. Riley raised his shoulders and turned his head a little to one side, holding up his hands defensively.

"Ay, don' look at me, Nigga, it _sounded _gay."

Wordlessly, Huey extended the arm that hurt the least. Riley dropped the two pills into his hand and Huey downed them immediately with the glass of water he had on the table. He retrieved his icepack from the floor, being mindful of his aching arms and holding it with both hands.

"I'm going to bed," he said, turning away.

Riley watched him go, at the last minute deciding to follow his brother to the bottom of the stairs. He held his forearms above his head, fists clenched, and frowned again, instructing, "Don' forget, Huey, you s'pposed ta be elevatin' yo arms, too! It brings th' swellin' down, so you best get a pillow!"

-x-

He dropped everything now.

Cups and plates - he'd broken so many by the end of the first week that Grandad bought plastic and paper ones specifically for him to use. If he tried to carry anything he lost his grip and it hit the floor, or his foot. He couldn't even pick it back up and throw whatever it was across the room to relieve some of the frustration, because the strain hurt his arm and he was still avoiding his medicine.

It would have been a lot easier to get away with if it wasn't so brutally obvious when he hadn't taken it.

Riley, for instance, could tell just by glancing at him - and true to his nature he dealt with the situation however he deemed appropriate. This time, it was by slamming a basketball against Huey's arm from across the driveway. The blow itself came as no surprise. Huey saw Riley look directly at him from around Cindy before he even threw the ball.

The surprise came when Huey did nothing to get out of the way. His reflexes were slower, anyway, but he honestly hadn't expected Riley to actually do it, let alone with so much enthusiasm.

The basketball slammed into his arm with so much force it made him stumble, and without an arm to catch himself on, Huey fell backwards, flat on his back across the pavement. He cracked the back of his head, and his elbow, jarring the arm that hadn't even been struck by the basketball and causing them both to hurt even more than they did on their own.

Huey groaned and grit his teeth, gingerly lifting his arms off the pavement and reaching up to cradle the back of his head. Unsympathetic, Riley leaned over him.

"See, Nigga, 'at woulda hurt so bad if you'd take yo meds," he stated.

"Th-they're not pills that _magically_ make _nothing hurt_, Riley!" Huey said, infuriated and still tense from the pain.

Cindy came over to stand beside Riley, an almost-disapproving expression gracing her features as she gestured leisurely at Huey.

"C'mon, Reezy, 'at wudn't cool," she said, "Y'know 'e ain't gonna be able t'get up, now."

"Like I give a damn," Riley snapped, "Ain't mah fault th' Nigga don' listen!" He pointed at Huey. "Lay 'ere an' think abou' what'chu did wrong an' I _might_ help you up later if you ready t'take yo meds."

He started to turn away, then, but Cindy held out a hand to stop him. She indicated Huey in response to the younger Freeman's inquiring frown and instructed, "You ain't leavin' 'im 'ere."

Riley crossed his arms, "Why not?"

"Cuz he inna way," Cindy said, her blue eyes narrowed, "An when he _do_ get up, don' think you gonna come runnin' an' hidin' b'hind Cindy, cuz _Cindy_ ain't gonna protect you."

"I'm s'pposed ta be scared a this Nigga? 'E got two broke arms, what's 'e gonna do?"

"I'm gonna beat the hell out of you when I get up," Huey said decisively from the driveway, glaring up at him.

"You mean _if_ you get up, Nigga," Riley said, dismissing the threat, "We still ain't decided whether we gonna move you yet er not."

"Uh, yeah," Cindy said, arching a blonde eyebrow, "We did."

"Since when?"

"Since we cain't play if you gonna leave 'im layed out inna driveway."

Riley considered this for a moment.

"A'ight, fine." He pointed down at Huey and added, "But you _takin' _yo meds when we get'chu up, Nigga!"

Both of them took a shoulder and hauled Huey swiftly to his feet. He grimaced at the pull in his arms, the sudden shift in altitude making his head spin a little, and frowned at Riley once he was steady. Riley spread his arms, shrugging, and was about to ask "Th' hell you starin' at?" when Huey abruptly swung his left arm.

His plaster cast caught Riley in the face and sent him sprawling to the driveway. Cindy cringed, leaning around Huey to see Riley's face as he sat up. A dark red scratch covered the whole of his cheek, and it was already starting to bruise.

"Th' _fuck_, man!" Riley snapped, rubbing his face.

Holding his left arm tightly against his chest, Huey stormed away to take his medicine.

-x-

That washy, crumpling sound was the most irritating noise he could ever remember hearing.

"Grandad, this is ridiculous," Huey said, displeasure etched on his face as he watched Robert awkwardly fit the plastic bag over the cast on his left arm.

He had managed to strip down to his boxers by himself, but could never get the bags on or else he would have. Grandad, by now used to Huey's objections, said, "Well, _I'm_ not the one who broke ya arms. We been through this every time, Huey. Ya casts cain't get wet, and ya need a shower. This's the only way it's gonna work, so quit'cha complainin'."

Tentatively holding Huey's arm in one hand to keep the bag in place, Grandad snapped a large rubber band twice around Huey's knuckles, and then around the bottom of his forearm, where the cast ended. Huey grimaced, flexing his fingers once Grandad let him go and frowning at the plastic bag.

"You know they make water-proof casts," he said, presenting his right arm as Grandad reached for the other plastic bag.

"Next time ya break somethin' we'll remember that."

-x-

"Here you go, Huey," Jazmine said brightly, dropping a stack of text books and stapled papers (his homework for the week) onto the coffee table in front of him. She flashed him a smile, inclining her head. "How are you feeling today?"

"How do you think?" Huey asked, mahogany eyes narrowed.

Jazmine's brow knotted slightly.

"Y'know, I'm sure you'd feel a lot better if you'd just take your medicine."

"The pharmaceutical companies hike up their prices from anywhere between three and five times a year, alleging that it's for 'Research & Development' when in reality it's just a ploy to further strengthen their monopoly," Huey said evenly, "This not only makes it harder on lower- and- middle-class people to pay for their prescriptions at all, it allows the pharmaceutical companies to favor customers that buy in bulk, such as large HMOs or the VA, charging them significantly less than the people that really need the medicine the most.

"The industry hasn't done any actual development of more efficient drugs in the last decade because patent-holders don't want to risk their money on less certain endeavors when they can simply make slight variations of older drugs that are already on the market and re-sell them as new, at a higher price. It isn't like buying a car, tennis shoes, or peanut butter, Jazmine.

"People depend on prescription drugs for their health, sometimes their life, and they're needs and ignorance are being exploited by an industry that's main concern isn't the quality of what they're selling, but expanding their market."

Silenced by the unprovoked onslaught of knowledge, Jazmine simply stared until she was positive that Huey was finished. Concluding that he was, and actually taking his medicine regularly (as opposed to several weeks before), she smiled again.

"So, I guess you _are_ feeling better."

"...Just a little."

"Can I sign your cast now, then?"

Huey's eyes narrowed. "I'm not feeling _that_ good, Jazmine."

-x-

"Doctor says you can go back ta school Monday."

If this news was delivered with the intent of raising Huey's spirits, Robert failed at it. The young revolutionary's expression didn't waver as he glanced up from his book, mahogany eyes half-lidded at his grandfather. Instead of grouchily pointing out that it was nigh impossible for him to _hold_ a pencil, let alone utilize it to the best of his abilities; the fact that he struggled enough getting dressed when he was fully awake and _not_ half-asleep, still a little drugged from the pain-killers early in the morning; and that he most certainly _would not_ let Jazmine cater to him all day by carrying around his backpack; Huey said nothing, and frowned.

Grandad arched an uncertain eyebrow at him, starting to ask if he'd even listened. Riley, however, twisted around from the other couch to glance at Huey and, after doing so, returned to his game.

"I popped another painkiller in 'is juice 'bout 10 minutes ago, Grandad, he might be out of it."

Mouth falling open, Huey glared at his (now completely empty) glass.

"Riley! I already took one!"

"Nigga, when? I di'n't see you take one?"

"Earlier, before you _snuck one into my glass?_ What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Goddamnit, boy," Grandad snapped, frowning as well, "What did I tell you about sneakin' Huey his meds - ya gonna over-dose 'im. And then _I'm_ gonna gave ta spend th' night in a damn uncomfortable hospital chair while they pump his stomach, and ya know I got a bad knee."

"Thanks, Grandad," Huey said, eyes narrowing, "Really."

"Oh, hush, boy, they're just painkillers."

-x-

"Riley..."

The name was more a warning than anything else, and Huey's suspicious frown deepened a little when it wasn't acknowledged. He prompted again, a little louder, and started to withdraw his arm, "Riley, I swear, if you write 'bitch Nigga' on that cast-"

"Damn, Nigga, would you take another pill?" Riley snapped, glaring over at him. He tightened his grip on Huey's wrist and drew his knees up to keep him from taking his arm back, blue sharpie still poised over his cast. "Didn' I _jus'_ get through sayin' I wasn' gonna write nothin' offensive?"

"You and I have two entirely different opinions of what classifies as 'offensive'," Huey said.

"Man, you lucky I even bothered askin'! I had plenty a opportunity t'write whate'er th' hell I want on yo casts when you passed out on yo meds, so unless you want 'bitch Nigga' sharpied on yo _fo'head_ later, you best lemme do what I'ma do. An' quit fuckin' movin'! 'S hard enough writin' upside down without you squirmin' an' shit, too."

A part of him still wary, Huey returned to the book in his lap and let Riley finish whatever he was drawing. The only reason he had relented in the first place was, indeed, because Riley could have done whatever he pleased when those painkillers kicked in and it showed a great deal of restraint that he hadn't yet.

The downfall was that now Huey would also have to let Jazmine sign his other cast. That was something to look forward to returning to school with: urban graffiti on one arm, hearts and rainbows on the other.

Huey shuddered at the thought.

-x-

(A/n) **Slight Edit, October 5-11:: I fixed wordings that were buggin' me and some dialogue. P:**

Reasons for these vignettes? I find the thought of Huey struggling with two broken arms amusing - :I Sadist - and I LOOOOOOVE me some tiny scroll bar! It spawns the tough/brotherly love and some funny awkwardness, though, so who's complaining? Also, I have no idea whether it was summer or what during that episode. For funs' sake, we will assume it was a weekend.

I had originally intended to write little bits all the way up until Huey has his casts removed. Due to insufficient ideas and a disdain for monotony, however, I didn't make it there. I am VERY LIKELY to update this in the future (adding to the length, not posting a new chapter, because I just don't want another drabble thing hanging around), so watch for it. xD Until that day, I hope you enjoyed these; PLEASE review~!

And before I hear any objections, _yes_ Huey DID break _both arms_. Find a screencap and don't question me. xD


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